


midnight rain

by kyu (dazaicat)



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, lapslock, quiet introspective almost-fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 14:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15887964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazaicat/pseuds/kyu
Summary: ash has a nightmare.





	1. Chapter 1

it’s so quiet, at first, that eiji barely notices.

he’s not to blame; the background is a constant wash of rain thudding dully against the metal roof of the cargo container they’re holed up in, beating down on the tarp ash dragged to cover the entrance from the worst of it. the close quarters magnify it to a dull roar. when eiji leans back, wall uncomfortably hard against his spine, it feels like his entire core is vibrating with the force of it.

he’s so focused on the outside and on trying to decipher any noises amid the steady downpour he almost misses the sniffles.

it could be a cough; a sneeze, maybe, precursor of a cold they can’t afford to have right now. but then he hears that sound again, a soft sob-like thing, and something inside him stirs.

“ash?” days of forced stealth pitch his voice low, even though it’s unlikely anyone can hear them in the downpour outside.

ash doesn’t reply, but there’s another one of those sniffle-sobs, and then an awful silence.

eiji glances over at the tarp-covered entrance and then crawls the six feet to where ash lies, face to the corner, bundled up in blankets. if ash had his way he’d be lying between eiji and the entrance even in sleep, but after some convincing they’d both agreed to sleep in the corner. it’s the warmer side, eiji had reasoned. they can’t risk a cold.

ash is deceptively still. when eiji rests a cautious hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t stir. it’s hard to tell, but so close, he realizes with a start that ash is shaking; different from the steady drum he felt against his back from the rain. a suppressed, helpless kind of tremble. immediately his heart aches.

“ash?” he says again. there’s an aborted motion in the blankets as if ash tried to curl up further on instinct and then realized he can’t, and a choked-off gasp; an awful, _awful_ sound he doesn’t want to hear again probably ever. even with the rain thundering outside, he hears it clear and sharp and painful.

he feels a little guilty, interrupting ash’s sleep. at the same time, surely it can’t be restful like this; it’s that thought that drives him to worm gentle hands into the pile of blankets to cup the side of ash’s head and turn him a little so he can see his face.

ash’s eyes are scrunched up so tight that eiji’s own hurt in sympathy. his lips are parted; this close, eiji can hear the gasps of his breath, too-shallow and too-fast. ash doesn’t wake even with the movement, and that’s how eiji knows it must be _bad,_ whatever it is.

“no…” ash breathes. “nuh—” his shoulders shake, another rapidly aborted movement, and eiji’s heart clenches. he doesn’t want to know what ash is saying _no_ to, in his dream.

he pushes a little more firmly, sending ash halfway into his own lap, and tries to tug the blanket away from where it’s caught under ash’s weight. ash still doesn’t wake, but his head lolls to the side, breaths coming gentler but more rapid as eiji frees his side from the blanket’s grasp.

“ash,” eiji says, a little louder. he tries to sound gentle and reassuring; tries to sound warm, even though it’s _cold_ with the rain and the metal and the midnight air surrounding them. “ash, wake up. wake up now.”

at the sound of his voice, ash’s eyelashes flutter immediately. his eyes open; hazy at first, disoriented, but focusing easily on eiji’s face in a few beats.

when he speaks, his voice sounds somehow both sleep-hoarse and hauntingly clear. “where— what time is it?”

“after midnight,” eiji whispers. “you were having a bad dream.”

“a nightmare,” ash clarifies, closing his eyes in resignation. then he opens them again, to look at eiji’s face in that carefully tired and somewhat guilty way of his again. “i’m sorry.”

hearing ash apologize for his own pain is a miserable thing. “no,” eiji says, firm. “no need to be sorry. it’s okay.”

ash doesn’t agree, but he also doesn’t argue. “i can take the next shift now,” he says instead, and makes as if to sit up. eiji firmly pushes him back down with a hand on his chest. “it’s not like i’ll be able to sleep now,” ash tries to appeal, but stops at eiji’s stern look. eiji can feel the corners of his own lips tugging down, and tries to pull them back up again into something nicer.

“you will rest, ash lynx,” he tells him, and tugs the blanket closer for good measure. “we have time.”

ash darts a look over to the entrance, but nothing has changed in the past few hours and eiji doubts it will anytime soon. no miserable bastard would want to come out here in such weather, anyway. he knows ash knows this, just like he knows ash will check anyway.

without anything to complain about, ash reluctantly settles more comfortably against the floor and against eiji. eiji takes that as his cue to wrap the blanket all the way around, trapping what little warmth is left against ash’s skin. it kind of looks like a giant burrito with ash’s face peeking out from the top. one of ash’s hands sneaks out from the folds to grasp one of eiji’s; he hasn’t even noticed that, but he squeezes it in reassurance. it’s warm.

he brushes what of ash’s hair he can see in the dim light away from his face. it’s soft; way too soft for a week on the road, way too fine and silky, and he lets his hand linger a little longer on ash’s forehead as it slips between his fingers.

“your hair is very soft,” he tells ash. “like a doll.”

“mmn,” ash says from the blanket burrito. already he sounds a lot sleepier than he did a few seconds ago.

eiji pats his shoulder a few times, some kind of attempt to maybe reassure. ash stirs lazily and pushes his face into eiji’s knee. he wonders how many people have ever seen ash like this; so relaxed, so at peace, so vulnerable. he’s seen ash jackknife from sleep before to slash someone’s throat seconds after. he wonders what makes him so special that carding his hand through ash’s hair gets him no more than a sleepy hum.

“sleep well, ash,” he breathes into the everpresent white noise of the raindrops and the resonating metal. ash doesn’t respond.

eiji spends the rest of his shift watching his face and the rhythmic rise-and-fall of his chest, glancing occasionally at the cold emptiness outside. no one comes by. ash sleeps.

the rain keeps pouring.


	2. morning sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for [mariam](http://kizunah.tumblr.com). thank u for dealing w my annoying ass whomst never shuts up about anything :'')
> 
> listen to [this](https://open.spotify.com/track/6092wlGgym5AF0agmDpjhn?si=BzNfVgQzTeqnuMjmOIhTuw) while you read for reasons ([soundcloud](https://soundcloud.com/ujico/itsgonnabeokay))

when ash finally stirs, it’s close to the break of dawn.

he wakes with a practiced but reluctant efficiency, nothing like the orchestrated drama of getting ash lynx up and awake back home. he just blinks his eyes open; and then he’s awake, rubbing at his eyes and wrinkling his nose up at eiji.

eiji wrinkles his nose back down at him and his bedhead. “good morning, sleepy princess.” he doesn’t know why he said that. it sounded good in his head.

ash’s lips twist in a strange way, like he can’t decide whether he’s amused or confused. he opens his mouth as if to snark back, and then yawns so wide eiji can count all of his teeth. when he catches eiji looking, his jaw snaps shut and his cheeks dust pink. “stop staring.”

“i’m not—” but he is, and it’s awkward now, so he drops the topic with a frustrated huff and wills his cheeks not to grow any warmer. “it is dawn. we will travel now, yes?”

ash lifts himself into a languid stretch, rustling the blanket over eiji’s lap. “let’s wait a bit for the sun to rise. no point stumbling around in the dark.”

just a few seconds from sleep, and already so coherent. eiji is almost jealous. ash lifts himself off the floor entirely, and pads over to the entrance to peek out past the tarp. he whistles.

“it’s a mess out there. with luck, all of our tracks should have been washed away, but trying to not leave trails in the mud will be a bitch.”

eiji purses his lips at the language, and starts rolling the blanket up absentmindedly. it’s still warm from ash’s nap. the temptation to press it to his own cold cheeks is great.

“eiji?” ash calls. eiji startles, setting the blanket down and hoping ash didn’t catch that momentary distraction.

“look at this,” ash is saying, and there’s something warm and bright in his voice. eiji peeks around his shoulder.

the very first rays of sunlight are peeking over the horizon, deep crimson lightening into an almost-white gold hue and then darkening into inky blue again. it stretches so far ahead of them that for a moment he doesn’t notice the mud the rain left behind, or the wreck of abandoned shipping containers around them, or the trampled grass.

he can’t help but peek at ash’s face. ash is looking at him, eyes glinting in the reborn light, before he looks back to the horizon. “nice, isn’t it?”

eiji is still looking at ash when he replies. “yes.”

he’s not lying; the longer they stand there, goosebumps on ash’s bare arms and eiji’s double pair of socks cold against the metal floor, the brighter and more golden ash seems to look. the gold spills across the sky, creeping up and melting the navy into paler, gentler shades of pink and orange and blue. the light catches on ash’s cheekbones, tangles in his hair, burns in his eyes. it’s beautiful.

“it’s beautiful,” eiji says, like it needs stating. ash gives a hum of assent next to him. they’ve only been standing there for a few minutes, but already eiji’s toes are freezing.

“well,” ash says finally. his hand comes up to touch eiji’s shoulder almost automatically as he gently ushers them both back in. “that’s light enough, don’t you think?”

ash’s hand is warm through his t-shirt. eiji nods. “we will go now.”

he shoves the rolled-up blankets and the waterproof sheet they were resting on into his own bag, and eyes critically the few boxes of breakfast bars they managed to bring along. there’s only three left; about a week’s worth of rations between the two of them, provided they don’t find anything else. it’s a little sobering.

ash comes up behind him, hand coming up to rest on eiji’s shoulder again. again, with the touching. “you okay?”

eiji sighs, and steps away carefully after a second more of stolen warmth. “there is not much food left. i worry.”

ash’s hand slips off his shoulder. “we can get more soon, i think. there’ll be a residential area an hour from now. should have some shops.”

he doesn’t say what they’re both thinking; that it’s not the lack of shops that’s the problem, it’s the terrifying prospect of being recognized. there’s a fine line they’re dancing here, between looking respectably unsuspicious and not looking like themselves.

“i’ll get something,” ash says, with a reassuring note of finality. “it’ll be okay. stop worrying, eiji.” he flicks eiji’s nose and steps cleanly out of range in the wake of eiji’s undignified noise.

“get yourself a hat to cover that ridiculous bird nest!” he snaps, and ash snorts.

“you like it.”

eiji wonders if he can dump him in the river an hour northwest and get away with it.

he unzips ash’s hoodie instead, a third layer ash insisted he wear so he doesn’t freeze to death in his nighttime vigil, and drapes it over ash’s head. ash’s arms are still bare, and it’s a little painful to watch given the temperature. “stop being ridiculous,” he advises.

ash makes some kind of sarcastic sound with his nose, but tugs on the hoodie. “we got everything?”

“i hope so,” eiji says. “yes.” the only bag he brought along is already packed, along with the blankets, and there’s really nothing else between ash’s own bag and the little electronic lantern he turns off and shoves inside. he throws ash a breakfast bar.

ash snatches it out of the air easily, and carefully folds half the wrapper into his pocket after tearing it off with his teeth. he carefully catches crumbs into the other half and shrugs his bag over one shoulder. “let’s go, then.”

they step out into the wet and cold morning air. eiji helps to tug the tarp down; they set it in a hopefully inconspicuous manner against the cargo container, and ash finishes the rest of his bar in a giant bite.

the sky is almost entirely blue when they leave. the pink clouds have faded into milky rose, orange-gold melting into a more mellow yellowish white. it’s a little less majestic, and somewhat more stark, but then ash slips his hand into eiji’s absently and eiji thinks: _this, this is a beautiful moment._


End file.
